


Death-Grounds

by snark



Series: Those Isles of Yours [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Red Room, Slow Build, Tension, Vietnam War, buckynat - Freeform, fluff where possible, many liberties taken with history, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 18,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6935623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snark/pseuds/snark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1968 the Black Widow and Winter Soldier are sent to aid guerrilla soldiers in North Vietnam. Natalia discovers that all it takes to melt the Winter Soldier is a little extreme heat.</p><p>A twist on your typical Red Room fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be made up of short chapters. Please excuse the typos and many liberties taken with the history of the Vietnam War. Enjoy

_It’s not the appetite an army has_

_for its own emptying heart,_

_but a hunger to stand now and then_

 

_alone on the death-grounds,_

_where the dogs of the self are feeding._

 

_Chase Twichell, ‘Hunger for Something’_

  


1968, North Vietnam

 

Natalia watched as the greenery rolled by her, swallowing the sea rapidly. The canopy was thicker than she could have ever imagined. It was as if the trees had been knitted together. She leaned a little closer to the window, tipping onto one cheek to see more. The jungle extended seemingly endlessly.

She was drawn from her reverie by her partner radioing for a location. She watched him uneasily from the corner of her eye, for she did not know him. This was there first mission together.

The Winter Soldier spoke in French, as neither they spoke Vietnamese nor their allies, Russian. French was the middle ground. Quickly, their landing spot was established and Soldier began their descent.

She understood why they had been sent together. This was an important war and the Soviet Union’s two most skilled operatives could just tip the balance in the North’s favour. They were sent not only to win a war but to solidify a partnership, to expand Communism for the greater good. She settled back in her seat, soothed. Yes, the Soldier unsettled her but he worked to the same ends as she.

The previous day when she had first faced him she had struggled to keep her composure. He was downright terrifying - not because he was vicious or threatening but because he was dead. It was obvious that he was a walking corpse. There was nothing human left in his eyes, excepting maybe a bloodlust. He had been a man once no doubt and now he was a ghost. Natalia’s fear was of his handlers and what power they possessed to do such a thing.

He piloted with his left hand, the complex and shining metal fully exposed. For perhaps the first time the Winter Soldier was dressed for sun. In his vest and combat trousers she could see much more of him now. He had been bound in dark leather before - now he wore green, and sunglasses. Natalia appraised her own clothes: the same as his only smaller. Her boots still squeaked they were so new. In the back of the helicopter were their helmets.

The Soldier guided them expertly through a small, almost unnoticeable gap in the trees. The broad leaves whipped wildly in the breeze created by the blades of the ‘copter. Natalia admired the tall, firm trunks as they descended through them. They touched down gently, and the blades shut down. She pulled off her headset, happy to hear her own thoughts again. When the Soldier opened the door all the heat and humidity in the world flooded in. She took a deep breath and followed him out.

They were greeted by Tran Do, deputy commander of the Viet Cong and now their Commanding Officer. He smiled tightly and spoke to them in French.

‘Winter Soldier, Black Widow, we are glad you’ve arrived. We are very grateful for the support of the Soviet Union. Unpack your gear, make yourselves at home in that bunker.’ He indicated a small structure between the trees to their left. ‘Rest. Your briefing begins one hour before sundown and then you will help with the night’s offensive manoeuvres.’

Natalia nodded. ‘ _Oui_ , sir.’

The Soldier nodded also, but said nothing.

The other soldiers of the company watched them curiously as they unloaded their weapons from the helicopter. Unwilling to leave them in the open, Natalia and the Soldier silently agreed to house them in their bunker. He carried their wooden boxes two at a time. She burned with jealousy that she had no metal arm to show off with.

By the time the work was finished they were equally sweaty, however. The heat did not suit either of them - it was stifling. Natalia asked the closest soldier for water, and he pointed her to a small well behind the main bunker. She found a bucket, tied it up and tossed it down. When she pulled up clear(ish) water she sighed in relief. Indulgently she splashed her face and neck before bringing it back.

‘I got water,’ she said to the Soldier in Russian. ‘There’s a well, luckily.’

He paused. He was crouched on the floor, checking their weapons. He seemed concerned the equipment would not have survived the bumpy flight, but it had.

‘Good,’ he replied flatly. ‘Fill the bottles.’

Natalia did as he said not because she respected him but because she feared him. A wild animal was not to be poked with sticks. She filled their hard, metal bottles and placed one by his feet. He snatched it up and drained it. She resisted the urge to snort and refilled it.

‘I’m going to get some sleep,’ she told him.

The room had two camp beds, pressed against opposite walls. She took the one on the left. Her sleeping bag was unnecessary in this heat so she used it as a pillow. Before going to sleep she tied her hair up high to keep her neck cool.

As she drifted into sleep she watched the Soldier through half-closed eyes. He put down the gun he was assembling and reached into his backpack. She watched with bemused satisfaction as he tied his own hair up messily with an elastic band. At least there was one thing she was better at than him, for all his years of experience. He splashed a little water on his face and neck before returning to his work. She fell asleep smiling to herself.


	2. Chapter 2

An hour before sundown they were woken by a soldier. Natalia bolted awake, sweaty and on edge in a second. This environment would take some getting used to. She slapped a mosquito on her arm. 

The Soldier was already on his feet. Not knowing which weapons would be needed they only took their water bottles to the briefing. It took place outside. Natasha was glad for the rapidly cooling night air - but not for the rising noise of insects. She smacked another mosquito. 

‘With these reinforcements from the Soviet Union we finally have the manpower to push across the border into the South.’ Tran Do began without introduction. Natalia found she liked him for it. ‘Before that, however, our path must be cleared.’ He turned to face them. ‘You will be our sledgehammers, and weaken the walls before we topple them. There are a string of enemy bases between here and on the border. When we get to our larger targets, you will cripple them before we swiftly finish. Once across the border, should I deem it appropriate, you will be released from your duties here. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Natalia replied for both of them.

‘Tonight and in the following weeks, we will take down the bases that stand between us and the border strongholds. This we will do as a group. You two will remain shadows, intervening only when needed to tip the balance in our favour. It is imperative that the enemy does not see you coming. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then arm yourselves, all of you. Drink and eat. At sundown we march for our neighbour’s house.’

She liked him a lot. She wondered, as she appraised his solid frame, if he would consider it an impertinence or an honour to be loved by the Black Widow. He ignored her, however, and retreated to his bunker. Natalia followed the Soldier back to theirs. 

The darkness was oppressive inside so they sat outside once fully armed. It was finally cool enough for Natalia to don a thin jacket and an underarm holster for her guns. She rechecked her thigh holsters, but they were perfectly tight. 

The Soldier passed her a high-calorie ration bar. A little startled, she took it warily.

‘Thank you.’ The words tumbled out of her mouth in French.

He gave her an awkward look. She wondered when the last time anyone thanked him was. Congratulated, yes, many times over she imagined. But thanks seemed to make him uncomfortable. He took a moment to recall the appropriate reply.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said in Russian.

They ate in silence and watched the sun go down over the trees.

When they marched silent and deadly through the jungle, Natalia and the Soldier stayed at the back of the pack. The other soldiers had muddied his and her skin like their own to blend in. Natalia had taken an extra coat she was so pale. They had wanted to cake her red hair too, but she tucked it up into her helmet and glared at them for the thought. Handgun at the ready she followed. The Soldier had selected a rifle.

It was unlike any warfare Natalia had seen. She had been caught in firefights, witnessed street fights close to open war, but this was wholly different. The brilliant moonlight showed their soldiers luring out enemy forces and killing them quietly. A well placed bomb here, a spatter of fire there, and half the enemy force was decimated before they had a chance to respond. She watched in awe, sequestered in a tree with the Soldier. It was the closest she had seen to a spy’s war. 

The Soldier snapped his rifle to his eye and shot, pinning a body to the jungle floor. He had excellent eyesight even in the gloom. Natalia let him be their sharpshooter. Instead she watched, and learned.

The battle was won after only a few hours. When the last stragglers ran scared into the jungle, Do whistled to his Soviet assassins. A little gleefully, Natalia climbed down and pursued. There was something more savage about killing in this environment. She felt like a jungle cat. She leapt on an American soldier’s back and garotted him. He choked, spluttered and fell. She collected her wire from his throat slowly. She savoured the sight of his sticky blood coming with it from his neck, bathed in moonlight. She knew in this moment that she was good.

Strays killed, she met with the Soldier and the company. They helped loot the camp, and drag their spoils back. Do said that moving now would be dangerous. No doubt other bases had been alerted to the danger. Until they calmed, the Viet Cong hid. 

‘You’re a very clever commander, sir,’ Natalia said to him. ‘Your company fights like spies. It’s incredible to watch.’

‘Thank you, Black Widow.’

‘You may call me Agent Romanoff, sir.’

‘Romanoff.’

Natalia shouldered her pack full of looted food and carried on. Sweat made her feel disgusting. She wanted to bathe desperately. With sadness she let that desire go. There would be no bathing yet.

Back at the camp she picked off the worst of her mud clumps and rinsed her face clean. Opposite her, illuminated by the single torch that hung from their bunker’s low ceiling, the Soldier struggled to free his hair from the elastic band. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

‘You shouldn’t use elastic in your hair,’ she told him. She switched back to Russian. ‘Here.’ She gave him one of her hair ties.

He wrestled his hair free and took the hair tie from her. ‘Thank you,’ he grunted, seemingly put out.

She wanted to grin. It seemed he did have emotions, even if they were stunted and base. She sat on her bunk and looked through their supplies for mosquito nets. Surely they had been packed.

‘So what do I call you?’ Natalia asked in the Soldier’s moment of vulnerability.

He stood in the middle of the room, head bowed, face in a hard frown, and a pink tie poking out through his dark hair. ‘I don’t have a name,’ he said.

They really had taken everything from him. Natalia huffed through her nose.

‘Well, you had better pick one because I can’t call you Soldier. You’re not the only one now.’

He blinked rapidly but was silent. Minutes passed. She finally unearthed the nets and covered her bed with one. The other she tossed at his feet. She began to think he was completely ignoring her, or bat shit crazy, until he replied.

‘Yakov.’

‘Okay. I’m going to get more water, Yakov. Hang your net.’

She thought she saw him watch her leave from the corner of his eye.


	3. Chapter 3

The missions to their surrounding bases were successful. True to their commander’s word Natalia and Yakov were barely needed. She devoted this time to studying their tactics and the Winter Soldier. 

He kept a routine of military precision. He rose, he drank, he ate, he exercised even in the blistering heat. He discussed plans with her most of the day over their thin map. Together they shaped and developed plans to break down the border bases one after the other. At night he distributed their excess weapons to the other soldiers and instructed them on their use. He always got them back, despite the fact he meant for them to be kept. So each night a different soldier was taught by Yakov how to use a rifle. After the battle, he washed up a little, ate, and slept.

She learned nothing of him other than the fact he learned quickly. His hair was as neat as hers in a week.

When the time came for her and Yakov to leave they were wished good luck fondly by the company, including Do. Natalia strapped the little radio he gave her to her waist. She smiled at him.

‘Best of luck, soldiers,’ he said to her.

‘And to you,’ she replied.

She kissed him on the cheek. She was, after all, the Black Widow. 

Yakov followed her South into the jungle. She was smaller which allowed her to move more easily through the undergrowth and carve out their path. From her pocket she drew out their dummy dog tags, essential back up for their plan. If they were caught by enemy forces they could very easily pretend to be lost Americans. She pulled hers around her neck. He did the same, tucking it under his shirt.

They walked for the better part of the day, pausing briefly to refuel. Natalia ordinarily would have felt a little awkward in the silence between them, but there was no such thing as silence in the jungle. Everything buzzed and chirped with life. Even the cesspools they came across were teeming with all manner of disgusting creatures. She would be glad for the silence of snow when they returned home.

‘We will camp here,’ Yakov announced, stopping suddenly.

She turned and frowned. ‘Why here?’

It was nowhere special - just jungle like the rest of it. He pointed to the orange sky she had not even noticed. In the dark they were likely to get lost. She shrugged off her pack and groaned in delight at the bloom of pleasure through her shoulders. 

They set up makeshift beds with blankets and rolled up sleeping bags. Yakov consented to a small fire to keep the bugs away. As Natalia kindled it, burning the driest leave she could find, he spoke.

‘What is your name?’ He always spoke suddenly, as if the words were daring.

‘Natalia Alianovna,’ she replied. ‘You may call me Natalia.’

‘What’s your family name?’

She looked up at him as the flames finally caught. In the orange glow his constant frown did not look so threatening.

‘Romanoff,’ she said, unable to hide her smile. ‘No relation.’

He shifted a little closer to the fire, and even produced a small smile in response. Perhaps he was thawing out. Natalia folded her legs into a basket and observed him. His face shone with a light sheen of sweat as hers no doubt did also. His eyes were serious, his mouth too. The redness of heat bloomed over his cheeks and nose, just threatening sunburn. On top of his head were his aviator sunglasses. He wore that American item with such style.

‘Do you know where you’re from?’ she asked curiously.

He shook his head. ‘I remember mission parameters, and my training.’

‘Huh.’ She poked the fire with a stick then waved it to extinguish its burning tip. 

‘Where are you from?’ he asked, a little bitterly.

‘Stalingrad.’ She welcomed this sudden birth of curiosity with glee. Perhaps, finally, she would have a conversation with him. ‘It’s nice there.’

‘I’ve been to Stalingrad.’ He flinched a little. ‘...I think.’

‘A mission?’

He nodded. ‘I forget the details…’

She shrugged. ‘Details are overrated. Do you think you know where you’re from? Do you ever remember?’

He shrugged this time. ‘No. Sometimes I dream of somewhere else, but I forget where when I wake up.’

Natalia hugged her knees, leaning her chin on them. ‘Do you ever wish you could go home?’

He was rock still for a moment. ‘I don’t wish for anything.’

His tone instructed that the conversation was over. 

Curiosity whetted and a little abated, Natalia lay down for sleep. She tried her best not to think about the bugs she lay with.

In the morning she woke first. The light that struggled down to them was thin, and weak, but welcome. It carried no heat. She rolled over, soaked in now cold sweat, and drank a little water. Her dry tongue thanked her for it. She glanced at Yakov the Soldier.

He looked blissful in sleep. She had not expected that. She had expected tortured dreams of a life now lost - but he looked peaceful. He lay on his side with one hand tucked under his face, his lips a little squashed because of it. For the first time she had seen his brow was untroubled. She supposed any good soldier could dream of better times on the battlefield.

When a mosquito landed on his temple she leaned over and slapped it. Yakov woke with a start, rolling back into a tree. Natalia let out a laugh and covered her mouth. He looked like a startled cat. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she said gleefully. ‘I was hitting a bug on your face.’

He glared at her and stood up. ‘Don’t do that.’

She struggled to control her mirth. ‘I won’t. I promise.’

After breakfast they resumed walking. Natalia chopped at great leaves that blocked their path, leading the way once again. Whenever she glanced back at Yakov, he was scratching one side of his face with his stubby nails. He seemed very frustrated by the red blotches across his cheek, chin and forehead.

‘It’s a heat rash,’ Natalia said to him knowingly. ‘You shouldn’t sleep on your hands.’

‘Will it go away?’ he grumbled.

‘Once you cool down.’

He sighed - the first proper outward display of his emotions she had witnessed. ‘Thanks, Natalia.’

 


	4. Chapter 4

They waited for the cover of night, spending the last hours of sunlight gathering intel on the base. It was an American army base, full of radio equipment and supplies. Natalia had spotted a few badged, medalled men amongst them. They had to be the first to go. Without direction their soldiers would weaken considerably. 

Natasha had shed her pack and jacket for maximum mobility. They had stored them a little farther away for safety. 

The wall around their camp was high enough to ward off any ordinary man. She would make the initial infiltration and then let Yakov in. She nodded to him. He nodded back. She ran at the wall and sprang, scaling it in a second. Once over she walked to the gate at a steady pace.

The first rule of espionage: always look like you belong. With her hair pulled back severely and her baggy clothing hiding her frame she looked just like every other soldier. She ran into nobody anyway as she picked her way through tents and weapons.

The two guards on the gate were easily dealt with. Natalia threw herself at them from the dark, grabbing one by the neck and kicking the other hard in the chest. She twisted before landing on her knees, snapping the first’s neck. She kicked out and crushed the other’s throat. He choked on his own blood as she let the Winter Soldier in.

She let him take care of the officers. She was on lookout in case anybody woke. But the silencer worked wonders and Yakov strolled out the camp unstopped. Natalia slid after him. They stuck to the shadows of the largest trees in their escape.

Once out of hearing range she radioed Do to tell him Base 1 was clear for entry. Delighted, he told her he’d be there the following afternoon. By then she and Yakov would be crippling Base 2.

Mission successful, they returned to their packs and drank heavenly water. Yakov said or did nothing to display his satisfaction with a job well done. She wondered if more than just his arm was robotic.

‘How old are you?’ he asked sharply.

Natalia side-eyed him, confused by the question. ‘Seventeen,’ she replied anyway.

‘You’re young,’ he said.

She frowned. ‘Have you ever thought that maybe you’re just old?’

For the first time she heard him laugh. It was just as sudden as his speech, but full of mirth. He shrugged helplessly.

‘You think I know how old I am?’

She smiled. ‘I was hoping you would know at least  _ one _ thing.’

He quietened to a chuckle. ‘I know that you’re way too young to be doing this.’

Natalia rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, old man. Are we moving tonight or staying here?’

‘We’ll stay here and take turns sleeping. Someone may come looking.’

‘I’ll take first watch. It’s way past your bedtime anyway.’

He let out another soft chuckle, and settled down for the night. Natalia sat up, leaning against a tree just a foot from where his head lay. This time he did not put his hand under his face. She noted that he always slept on his right side. No doubt the metal arm was uncomfortable to sleep on.

She woke him after five hours and they swapped. When he woke her it was daylight. They were undiscovered. Natalia woke with satisfaction in her heart. It was the kind only a successful mission could bring. Even Yakov seemed a little more relaxed.

They would hinder the second base during the day. There were prisoners there - highly trained guerrilla fighters. Once free they would tear the place apart. This base needed such a light touch to not arouse suspicion. They walked there at a steady pace, the heat beating down on them viciously.

When it hit midday Yakov called to her to stop. The heat was overwhelming. She panted as she turned. He dropped his pack and sat on it, head low. He gave a shiver and threw up between his feet. Natalia sighed and walked to him. 

‘Have you been drinking?’ she asked.

‘The water has to be saved.’

She snorted. ‘This isn’t the North, Yakov. Water keeps you alive here.’ She kneeled before him, careful to avoid to pool of yellow vomit. She put a hand to his forehead - an open flame. ‘You’ve given yourself heat stroke.’

Natalia took charge because he seemed at a loss. The Winter Soldier did live up to his name. He was made for the opposite climate. Black Widows, however, could live in all sorts of places. She stripped him out of his t shirt to expose his skin. The delirium made him cooperative. Happily he let her take his weapons and boots and socks. She rolled up the hems of his trousers too. He lay back on the forest floor, breathing heavily.

She forced him to drink his water despite his weak protests. She used her own to sprinkle his exposed skin. The research she had done prior to this mission had included dealing with heat stroke. His apparently had not. She waved a large palm frond over his wet skin to cool him. It took a while but he slowly recovered.

Natalia could not help but admire his physique as it lay before her. The hard planes of his chest and abs were amazing, as well as the dipping Vs of muscle that led down beneath his belt. She should really take his trousers off to cool him properly…

He groaned and reached with his metal arm for more water. She supposed that wasn’t helping him any either. She had brushed it briefly while undressing him and it was gathering heat like a fire. She watched the way it gripped and pulled the skin of his shoulder as he used it. It was a part of him, yes, but an obviously foreign part. The scarring where it attached to him looked angry, almost new. It seemed it would never really heal.

‘Natalia?’ he asked blearily.

‘I’m here.’ She sprinkled his skin again and waved the frond. 

‘Where’s Steve?’

It seemed his delirium was worse than she thought. She frowned at him deeply. 

‘Drink your water. There’s no one here called Steve.’

But his eyes were open, clear and intelligent. He looked back and forth at nothing as he thought. She realised that maybe he was not hallucinating but remembering. She felt his skin again - still overheated. So perhaps he was just dreaming.

‘I…’ The word came from his mouth in English. ‘I don’t feel great.’

He sounded positively American. Natalia knew she spoke English with an American accent also, but his was flawless. She patted his chest gently, unable to resist touching him.

‘You’re sick,’ she comforted him in English. ‘You’ll be fine soon.’

He rolled his head on his shoulders and looked at her. His expression blanked a little in surprise. ‘Oh...You’re, uh…’ He groaned and let his head flop to the side again. ‘Trust me to get a pretty nurse.’

Heat that had nothing to do with the sun flashed through Natalia. He was dehydrated, half crazy and speaking in the enemy language but he thought she was pretty. Maybe he had thought so all along. She let herself blush while he looked away.

‘Hey soldier, keep it together,’ she said to him. ‘Drink your water.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Eventually he did cool down and the water hit his system. He dozed a little and when he woke he was himself again. Natalia rested while he dressed and armed himself. She watched him curiously. She wondered fiercely if she had seen a glimpse of the man he once was. For he had to have been someone before he was the Soldier.

He ignored her questioning looks however, and if he remembered anything from his delirium he did not bring it up. Once fully recovered they resumed walking at a slightly slower pace.


	5. Chapter 5

The second base was hindered without a hitch. The prisoners had become blood thirsty. Natalia and Yakov used their rampage as a distraction to steal supplies. They eagerly left that base for the third.

Natalia looked forward to this base because it was on the Gulf of Tonkin, which meant water a plenty. She would swim soon and finally, finally cool down. The waters were not entirely safe she knew, but she would brave them. She would clean her hair and cool her red skin and it would be heaven. 

Yakov trailed behind her, still weary from his heat stroke. He drank water desperately. 

They walked until it was dark, then set up a small camp. He had caught a tropical bird of some kind that day so they would have some meat. Expertly he plucked it and butchered it and skewered it. He was back in his element now: survival.

Natalia watched greedily as the meat roasted over the fire. Her stomach was so empty it hurt. The smell of cooking flesh made her mouth water.

‘Natalia,’ Yakov interrupted her thoughts, ‘thank you, for earlier.’

She shrugged. ‘I wasn’t going to let you die.’

‘I know, I just wanted to say thanks.’ He looked uncomfortable with that fact. ‘I got you something.’

Natalia watched in fascination as he dug around in the pockets of his backpack. It seemed he had forgotten which one he had used. Eventually he drew out something shiny even in the darkness. She reached a hand out and he dropped a chain into her palm. In the firelight she inspected it.

It was a short necklace with a small, jade pendant hanging from it. It was tear drop shaped, and wrapped in a silver lining. It was stunning. A little speechless she looked up at Yakov.

He watched her nervously before turning back to the fire. He rotated the meat with his metal hand. Natalia closed her fist over the necklace.

‘I stole it from that base,’ he explained. ‘I thought you might like it.’

‘Thank you,’ she said gently, shocked to her core. ‘I do like it. It’s beautiful.’

The Winter Soldier was not meant to give gifts or think of beauty. He was not meant to fall ill or be stopped or think of his companions. The Winter Soldier was a weapon - commonly referred to as ‘it’ by his handlers. This was what Natalia knew of the Soldier.

Yakov was not the Winter Soldier, not outside of battle. Yes he was ruthless and bloody and outstandingly deadly, but he was a man. He laughed, he drank, he ate, he talked - he was not an ‘it’. He had been someone once and that someone was not entirely gone. She watched him test the meat between his metal fingers, face calm and steady but not blank. She felt her heart quail at the thought of what had been done to turn him into the Soldier. And for all this cruelty, he was still kind.

She put on the necklace and tucked it under her shirt. It lay next to her dog tags, wam against her flesh.

They ate the bird and it was juicy and tender and wonderful. Natalia completely overindulged and gave herself a stomach ache. She lay down with a satisfied smile. Yakov lay across from her, the fire between them.

‘I remember some things,’ he said tentatively. ‘Little things.’

‘What do you remember?’ she asked eagerly.

He rolled onto his side to face her. ‘I remember mountains - I think they may have been the Alps.’ Natalia held his eye contact. He looked a little desperate. ‘I remember falling from a train. I lost my arm then. Someone found me - a scientist. He called me Sergeant. He gave me this.’

Yakov lay his metal arm between them. Natalia studied it in the low light of the dying fire. His fingers lay on the grass naturally, a little curled, as if they were real. 

‘They froze me.’ His voice became hurt, strangled. ‘Until they needed me. Like a beast.’

She reached out and wrapped his metal fingers in her own. He did not respond for several seconds before giving her fingers a light squeeze. Her heart ached for this lost soldier.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, ‘for not treating me like the rest of them.’

Natalia felt shame wash over her. She had been merely satisfying her curiosity in listening to him. ‘I don’t know about that,’ she objected quietly.

‘You gave me a name,’ he pointed out. ‘I don’t think it’s completely right. I think my name may have began with a B, but...Yakov is my name now. It’s good to have a name.’

She smiled at him. ‘You’re welcome then.’

Silence fell, until he broke it again. It seemed now he had started talking he could not stop.

‘Tell me about you,’ he insisted. ‘What do you remember?’

‘I remember everything,’ she replied. ‘I’ve been training since I was a little girl. There were twenty-eight of us at first. We trained together. Slowly the numbers began to dwindle until one day I found myself alone. So they called me Black Widow and put me out in the world.’

‘Why Black Widow?’

She smiled and ran the pad of her thumb over his metal palm. ‘I’m a spider more than a soldier. I sneak in, kill, and sneak out. Plus the Black Widow has a nasty habit of killing her mates.’

He chuckled at that. ‘I see.’

They fell into quiet, and eventually into sleep. They did not bother to separate their hands.


	6. Chapter 6

When Natalia saw the glimmer of water she let go of her steady pace. Her eyes fixed on that sparkling glimpse of the sea through the tree trunks, and she ran. She leapt over roots and blew through bushes until she burst out onto the wet, dirty beach. Before her the Gulf of Tonkin spread out - beautiful and blue.

She turned to share the moment with Yakov. He was eyeing their surroundings carefully, half hidden in the trees. Once satisfied they were alone he stepped out into the sun, dropping his aviators over his eyes. She paused for a moment to admire him in the sunshine. He was a beautiful soldier: the image of power and perseverance. Not one part of him was non-lethal.

A fresh wave of air from the water blew by them. His face relaxed in the cool, his eyes dropping closed. Natalia tossed her helmet to the ground and let her hair wave in the breeze. He opened his eyes and stared at her.

‘Fancy a swim?’ she asked, grinning. She dropped her pack onto the sand too.

‘Yes.’

Natalia shed her boots and peeled off her sweaty socks with delight. The sand was cool and wet between her toes. She did not give a thought to the gaze of the Soldier as she stripped down to her underwear. He had seen such things, she was sure. And she was too clammy to care. A thrilled cry leapt from her throat as she ran into the water. It lapped up at her shins, cold and refreshing and she flopped down into it. 

The small waves engulfed her. Natalia dove and rose, soaking herself head to toe. As she breached into the sunshine, the water lapping around her waist, she felt a strange freedom in her bones. She was a soldier, a tool, a weapon, but in the waters of Vietnam she was cool and free at last. She turned to look for Yakov.

He still stood on the beach, his pack between his feet. It seemed he had not moved while she had stripped and dove in. He had watched her. Natalia felt the heat of embarrassment spread through her. His expression was enraptured, as if he thought her beautiful. Her blush turned to one of flattery. She dipped her head and looked away.

He joined her a few minutes later. Natalia floated on her back, thoroughly soaking her hair. She righted herself. She was in deeper now, the water lapping just under her breasts. He stood before her, chest bare and metal arm glinting madly in the reflections of sunlight from the water. His hair was wet and looked almost black.

Natalia wanted to say something clever but he was looking at her with such naked hunger she found herself a little choked. She should have been more modest. He was a lost soldier - who knew how long it had been since he had seen a woman? She felt very self-conscious in that moment. She looked in his eyes and tried to show how sorry she was for tormenting him.

‘Go back to the beach,’ he said. ‘Keep watch.’

Natalia nodded and obeyed. On the sand she watched him bathe with the little bar of soap they had. She would get her turn after him. She sat on her blanket and picked apart the knots in her hair.

She was not a virgin. She had bloomed into puberty early and the Red Room had used that. Sex was not a stranger, it did not frighten her. What she was curious about was sex for more than just the sake of it. She wondered about the couples she saw in the streets who held hands and whispered into each other’s ears and for whom sex was a part of something bigger. She wondered what it would be like to be held with at least a little bit of love.

She also wondered what it would be like to fuck someone she actually liked, both physically and emotionally. Yakov, sparkling in the wet sun, certainly fit that bill. When he climbed out the water she stole a glance at his crotch through the translucent wetness of his underwear. Heat bloomed within her. Perhaps, if he would allow it, they could fill the time another way that night.

He gave her the soap and she slipped back into the sea without looking at him. 

How wonderful it was to be  _ clean _ . She scrubbed her hair twice to get it shining again. She dipped down low and cleaned her crotch as best as she could. It was a bad idea to contemplate sex with Yakov but she could at least be prepared for it. When Natalia ventured out the water she lay in the sun to dry.

‘Are you hungry?’ he asked gruffly.

‘A little.’

‘Stay here.’

And off he went - trudging back into the treeline without another word. Natalia watched him go, confused by the return of his blunt nature. Perhaps her antics had affected him a more than she thought. She decided to tone it down a little and shimmied into her clothes again.

He returned with two large fruits with red and green and yellow skin. Natalia smiled as he handed her one. It was smooth, and a little squishy under her fingers.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘It’s a mango,’ he replied. ‘It’s good. Take the skin off.’

She peeled back the skin with her knife to reveal bright yellow flesh. It oozed juice. She put it to her mouth and the sweetness was intoxicating. Her groan could not be helped. Yakov laughed in response. She sank her teeth in and sucked greedily on the flesh. When she glanced up he was looking at her with that hunger again.

For a long moment they both stared at each other. Natalia felt the fruit juice dripping down her chin. She drew it from her mouth and licked her lips clean. His eyes flicked to her lips, and then away. The tension broke. He turned away from her a little and ate his mango with his knife.


	7. Chapter 7

The third base was much more heavily guarded than the others. For this Natalia needed all her training. She slid into the mindset of the woman on her dog tags: Natalie Rushman from Arizona. It would be an easy disguise because no one would look too close. These men hadn’t seen a woman in months, maybe even years. They would let her in.

She loathed every step through the jungle because it meant sweating away her cleanliness. Their night on the beach had been a haven. She grumbled to herself as she brushed sweat from her brow.

‘What’s your extraction signal?’ Yakov drilled her.

‘Four, two count, three, three count, two, four count,’ she replied. ‘If I can’t get to any equipment I’ll just scream.’

He was satisfied. He nodded and said nothing. 

A little distance had formed between Natalia and Yakov overnight. Something about their nakedness yesterday had forced them apart. She blamed herself for being so foolish. She should have shown restraint around him. God only knew what went on in his head.

Half a mile out from the base she dumped her pack and weapons. All she held now was a water bottle and a short, but blunt knife she had taken from another soldier. The company had to believe she had been separated from her unit, and stumbled upon them by chance. 

‘Good luck,’ Yakov murmured to her as she turned to leave.

She smiled at him tightly. ‘You know better than me it’s not about luck.’

He shrugged one shoulder, smiling a little too. ‘A bit of luck never hurts.’

She laughed, turned, and went on her way. 

When Natalia stumbled out the treeline and into the clearing that held the base, guns were on her in a second. She held up her hands, dropping her water bottle. 

‘I’m friendly!’ she shouted, slipping into English easily. ‘I’m a friendly! Don’t shoot!’

Two American soldiers jogged to her. ‘Keep your hands up! Who are you?!’

‘I’m Private Rushman!’ she called. One of them began frisking her. ‘I got separated from my unit - Delta Company. I’ve been lost for days.’

‘She’s clean,’ one of them announced. Idiot had missed her knife completely. ‘Show us your tags.’

Natalia kept one hand in the air as she fished them out. They were flawless replicas, she knew. At the sight of her tags they relaxed. She was welcomed in and given a fresh water bottle, even offered a shower.

She took their comforts and their trust. As the sun set rapidly overhead she dried her hair by a small, crackling fire. Just beyond sat their munitions supplies in a large tent. One guard stood outside it smoking a cigarette. Natalia slipped away from the other soldiers and towards him.

‘Can I have a cigarette?’ she asked sweetly.

The private’s face brightened considerably. Eagerly he held out the pack to her. His lighter flashed in the rapidly descending darkness. She drew in smoke deeply.

‘What’s your name?’ she continued.

‘Private Greg Jones, miss. Yours?’

‘Natalie,’ she replied with a smile.

He smiled back, dopey. This was all too easy. Natalia stood by him, angling herself so he could see the outlines of her curves in the dim firelight. From the corner of her eye she saw him lick his lips.

‘Open the gate!’ A cry came loudly over the camp.

Natalia frowned. Commotion began, but she struggled to see in the dim. She shuffled a little closer to Greg and the tent, unwilling to lose her position. Quickly, electric lamps were lit and light poured over the situation.

Soldiers poured in, healthy and strong but weary. They had come from another base it seemed, or perhaps were returning from a skirmish. Natalia watched as her chances of getting out alive and unnoticed dwindled. She would need Yakov’s extraction after all.

Natalia bedded down for the night to bide her time. Eventually the lights dwindled and extinguished and all the chatter died to an insect-fuelled hum. By listening intently she learned the soldiers had come from the base she and Yakov were next due to hit. They had been sent as reinforcements - as the other two bases had fallen. She smiled to herself in the dark. It was not a curse, but a blessing. Two birds, one stone and she was winding up to throw.

When it was pitch black, only the torches of the guards piercing the night, Natalia slipped from her bed and amongst the sheep. She crept back towards Greg who seemed to be flagging a bit. 

He started a little at her appearance by his shoulder. Before his open mouth had a chance to form words she pulled him down into a kiss. His guard slipped away completely. He clung to her waist. She trailed her hands up his body - one to the right shoulder and one around the back of his head. In a swift movement she snapped his neck. He slumped into her arms, dead.

Natalia picked up his torch and shone it into the dark sky. She clicked it on four times, paused for two seconds, then three times, paused for three seconds, twice and then four. She repeated the pattern to make sure Yakov had seen it. From the trees beyond the gate the pattern was shone back to her.

She felt a hardness settle over her face. A lot of people would die by her hand tonight. She slung a bandoleer of grenades across her body - the best their munitions supply could offer her. She cast one last look over the sleeping camp. She took in the sound of their peaceful snores. She swallowed her apprehension. This was her place in their world: a bringer of death.

_ I have no place in the world _ , she thought.

She pulled the ring from a grenade and tossed it behind her as she jogged from the tent. Hidden carefully behind a pile of sandbags protecting their helicopter, she waited for the explosion.

A shriek escaped her lips as the bomb went off. A crackle of bullets sounded with it, spraying randomly as the guns caught fire. The whole camp was woken up in an instant. Natalia had seconds to act.

She threw a second grenade underneath their helicopter and ran for the gate. Amongst the chaos nobody paid her any attention. When that grenade went off the whole camp was illuminated in its glow. Including her.

‘Hey! Stop!’ One of the front gate’s guards bellowed at her. ‘Don’t move!’

A knife embedded itself in the back of his neck. Natalia looked behind him to see Yakov charging the gate. His metal hand made short work of the bars, and wrenched the chain lock apart. She ducked the second guard’s fire, arms over her head. A moment later she heard his strangled cries. She peered up to see Yakov holding him by his throat a foot from the ground.

A great explosion startled them all as something caught fire and exploded in the munitions stock. Yakov grabbed Natalia roughly with his free hand and slammed the soldier down into the mud with his other. The sickening crack of his skull ensured he was dead. Yakov dragged her from the camp. Heart racing, she stumbled after him and into the awaiting tree line. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind comments! They keep me writing. I'm currently slogging through some of the heavier chapters to come. I'll try my best not to keep you waiting too long.

Natalia panted for breath once Yakov dropped her to the jungle floor. Espionage tended to go more smoothly than  _ this _ . She decided then and there that she didn’t like Guerrilla warfare. The curls of illuminated smoke she could spot above the trees, however, proved it was fucking effective. She could still hear bullets firing madly in the flames.

‘Well done, Natalia,’ Yakov said to her with a grin. ‘You’ll be a soldier yet.’

She leaned against a tree trunk and breathed deeply. ‘Thanks.’

‘Rest for a moment.’ He crouched before her, looking into her eyes in the muted light. By now the sun was beginning to rise. She did not realise she had waited all night to kill them. Her breath jumped again. ‘You’re in shock,’ he said to her gently. ‘Breathe.’

She stared desperately into Yakov’s calm, blue eyes. War was his natural habitat. She should let him guide her through it. Without her permission tears welled up in her eyes. Humiliated, she drew her knees up and buried her face in them. It was all too much to process.

His hands on her hair served to calm her a little. She grounded herself in them, ignoring the cries and explosions from the camp. She had done that. Her own hands.

‘I should not be afraid!’ she squeaked pathetically. ‘They told me not to be afraid!’

‘Fear is a natural response,’ Yakov replied quietly. His voice was close. ‘It has to be felt.’

She raised her head and glared at him. ‘What do you know about fear?!’

He stared back at her calmly. ‘I know enough. _ This _ ,’ he gestured to her vaguely, ‘is just aftershocks, they'll pass. It’s over.’

‘Will it go away?’ she whispered, feeling foolish.

He smiled and laughed a little. ‘Natalia, no one is completely without fear. Not your handlers, not your teachers, not the President...Not even me.’

He cupped her face with his right hand. She stilled. Once again his tenderness was showing. His fingers were surprisingly soft on her cheek. He smiled at her grimly. Desperate to calm herself she covered his hand with her own.

For long, uncountable minutes they sat together. It sounded like the world was falling apart not too far away. The sun brightened the sky steadily in shafts of orange light. And eventually Natalia’s shock ebbed away, leaving her completely exhausted.

‘We should move,’ she broke their silence hoarsely.

Yakov smiled, patted her cheek, and withdrew his compass.

Once a safe distance from the base Natalia radioed Do, who showered them with praise. He relayed  instructions from the Red Room to await extraction at a specific hotel in a nearby town along the coast. Since they had finished the op early it meant a few extra days before they would be contacted. Do instructed them to lay low. One last ‘congratulations’ and he signed off.

The hotel was half a day’s walk. Natalia, still shaken from the events of the mission, withdrew into herself. She attempted to digest the destruction she had caused, the death. It failed fantastically to compute. Yakov occasionally cast her sympathetic looks.

Natalia managed to pull herself together quickly when they approached the small town they were staying in. Yakov had to shrug on a jacket to hide his metal arm and sweltered in the heat. She badly hid her amusement, and he scowled at her. 

In slightly broken French the hotel owner checked them in, a little fear in his eyes. He had been warned of their arrival it seemed. Natalia adopted a cool exterior. No doubt he had been threatened with their power - playing it cool could only further ensure his fear. Yakov hung back, next to a fan that stood by the stairs. To anybody else the two looked like American soldiers on leave. When Natalia finally got the date out of the proprietor she realised they would have to maintain that illusion for five days before extraction. 

‘Come on, James!’ she called to him in front of the other guests. ‘I got our keys!’

He started a little at her English. ‘Alright,’ he replied, eyes a little wild.

Their room was open and well ventilated. Cool air fanned through a vent above the wide, double bed. Natalia hunted around to see a smaller bed pushed up against the bathroom wall. It was small, but it was clean and cosy. She shed her pack with a sigh of relief.

‘Why did you call me that?’ Yakov snapped urgently once they were alone, once again in Russian.

‘What?’ Natalia turned to him. ‘James?’ She shrugged. ‘English equivalent of Yakov. There probably aren’t many Americans named Yakov.’

He seemed disturbed however. He stalked around their room, freeing himself from the jacket. She noticed a strange clicking noise coming from his arm. She pressed herself against the wall to stay out of his way. 

‘We need supplies,’ he eventually said. ‘You’ll have to go.’

Natalia nodded. These were not requests but instructions. In her head she began making a list of food and towels and soap. She gathered her money from deep within her pack. It was enough to buy the hotel, she was sure, and took only a small amount of it.

Just as she turned to leave she heard the spray of the shower. Yakov called, ‘And get me a razor!’ Natalia smiled to herself, imagined him seeing his beard for the first time in weeks, and made a note of it.


	9. Chapter 9

Natalia sat that evening on their balcony in a set of fine, linen shorts and a clean tank top. It had been a delight to shower after returning laden with supplies. Yakov had already done so and greedily snatched the clean clothes from her bags. Although, he let her shower before shaving his face in a display of gentlemanly kindness she had not thought possible. She understood now as she waited for him to emerge from the bathroom. It seemed to be taking him an age.

She ran her fingers through her soft, shiny hair and smiled to herself. Mission complete. She would be praised for this, and for working with the Winter Soldier. Her handlers had been apprehensive about sending the two out unmonitored. Natalia’s smile grew. He was not as dangerous as they thought, at least not when sweaty.

She turned at the sound of banging. Yakov was leaning against the wall, shirtless and still a little damp from his shower. He rocked on his feet and slammed his metal arm against the concrete corner. She frowned heavily.

‘What are you doing?’

He looked up at her, all blue eyes and sharp chin. ‘I need to recalibrate my arm, but one of the plates is stuck.’

She rose and walked to his side. His face looked different without any stubble. He looked far younger. She had estimated he was close to thirty, but now realised he was not much older than her. Without the shroud of facial hair he looked to be in his mid-twenties. He turned to show her his arm and pointed with his other hand to a squinted plate on the bicep. Confidently, Natalia ran her fingers over its edges.

‘I need to flip it open,’ he said.

‘Hold on.’

She grabbed her knife from the table. The tip of the blade slid under the edge easily and she gave it a wiggle. After a second it loosened and popped open like a cabinet door. She stepped back. Yakov shrugged, the arm realigned itself by shifting and resettling all its parts. This time the little plate fit snugly into place.

‘Thanks.’

He smiled at her, young and handsome in the orange light. Natalia felt the heat of a blush deep in her cheeks. She buried it and smiled back coolly. 

‘You’re welcome. Get us a couple of glasses.’

He complied, but not without a tilt of his head. His dark, damp hair fell into his face a little. Natalia turned and rummaged in a shopping bag. He smiled again when she produced a bottle of whisky.

‘It’s American, I’m afraid,’ she explained as she poured them each a drink. ‘They have it in for the soldiers.’

‘Let’s sit in the sun,’ he suggested.

Natalia sipped her drink. Her eyebrows flew up at the flavour - rich and spicy, but with that undeniable alcohol burn. She coughed after she swallowed, unable to help it.

‘First time drinking whisky?’ Yakov asked, grinning.

‘I think I prefer vodka.’ Nevertheless she took another sip.

It was easy to believe that they were ordinary people then, sat in the cooling sunshine drinking together. Natalia enjoyed such moments. She dedicated them to the little girl she had been and all her dreams. It felt a little like a stolen moment of bliss.

Yakov seemed to be basking in it too. She did not imagine he spent much time out of the line of fire. His face was turned up to the sun, a peaceful expression on it. She smiled to herself.

‘Hey,’ he said suddenly, turning to look at her, ‘what did you call me earlier?’

Her smiled turned to one of bemusement. ‘James. Why?’

His eyes slid away from hers, his head shook back and forth. ‘I think...I don’t know…It feels a little familiar.’

She sat up a little straighter with fascination. ‘You think your name is James?’

He shrugged and looked away from her again. ‘I don’t think anything,’ he said lowly. 

Natalia refused, however, to let him retreat from her again. She reached out and prodded his flesh arm. Annoyed, he looked back at her. She grinned.

‘Your name is James,’ she said teasingly. ‘I think you’re American.’

He smirked. ‘Why’s that?’

‘When you had heatstroke you talked to me in English. You sounded all...drawly.’

‘Drawly?’ He laughed. ‘What does that mean?’

She switched to English. ‘Like an Am _ uurr _ ican.’

He laughed harder. ‘Doll, that doesn’t suit you,’ he replied in English. ‘Not one bit.’

‘Who are you callin’ doll, pal?’ 

‘Who you callin pal, friend?’

‘Why I oughtta!’ She shook her fist at him.

Natalia fell into giggles. Yakov laughed too - or rather  _ James _ . She was quite convinced that was his name, even if he was not. She refilled their glasses.

‘Easy there,’ he said, snatching up his glass. ‘Don’t want to get drunk.’

‘Says who?’ She replied in English because he had. 

‘Gotta stay alert,’he reminded her. He still smiled gently, however.

She shrugged. ‘I can’t get drunk anyway.’ He frowned in confusion. ‘They gave me a serum to make me stronger. My cells…uh.’ she struggled for the word and switched back to Russian, ‘they metabolise three times faster than normal. I burn off the alcohol before it has an effect.’

‘Metabolise,’ he provided her with the English word. ‘You gotta brush up, kiddo.’

And instantly an idea hatched in Natalia’s mind. She leaned towards him eagerly. ‘You could teach me.’

He looked at her curiously. ‘Teach you English?’

‘And other things,’ she enthused. ‘Sharpshooting, whatever. When we get back. And I could teach you stuff in return, like...Romanian. Do you speak Romanian?’

He shook his head. ‘But why?’

She smiled. ‘Why not? We could train together, and go on more missions. I think we make a good team.’

His lips opened a little bit, his eyes widened like dinner plates. Natalia sat back and sipped her drink, glad he seemed to be coming around to the idea.

‘You would want to go on missions with me?’ he asked slowly.

‘Of course. I mean, if you would like?’ Worry nipped at her brow.

He nodded instantly. ‘Yes. I would. We do make a good team.’

She grinned again and raised her glass. ‘To your health!’ 

‘Cheers,’ he corrected. ‘In English we say cheers.’

‘Cheers,’ she repeated.

They tapped the rims of their glasses together and the sound rang out clear. Natalia looked over the town and the water beyond, already planning how to ask her superiors for this privilege. They would see they were a successful team by virtue of this mission. Training together could only strengthen them. Of course there would still be solo missions for him and her both, but together they could tackle the big missions. The Black Widow and The Winter Soldier. She turned to smile at him again.

But James’s face was curiously blank, his eyes turned down. She sat forward to catch his eye. He gave her a small, sad smile.

‘Yasha?’ The familiarity slipped from between her lips naturally. ‘What’s wrong?’

He sat back with a sigh. ‘It’s a good plan. They’ll probably support it. But they won’t let me remember this, or any of this mission. They’ll wipe me as soon as we get back.’

Natalia’s expression turned to one of shock, then horror.


	10. Chapter 10

‘But why?’ she asked. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong.’

He laughed bitterly in the back of his throat. ‘That doesn’t matter. They’ll take one look at me and decide I’ve broken my programming.’

‘I don’t understand.’ She implored for more information.

‘I am memoryless, they like to keep it that way.’ He finished his drink in one swift gulp. He poured another in silence. At her look of worry he continued. ‘My programming does not include having a name or a history.’

Natalia felt her heart give a funny little wriggle. ‘So you won’t remember me?’

He shook his head. ‘The only things I remember are skills. You teach me Romanian and I’ll never forget it, but all this,’ he gestured around them, ‘will go.’

‘How cruel.’ The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. Her instinct was to take them back, swallow them and never think so again because it was treason. If they kept James memoryless it was for a reason, one that contributed to the greater good. She had to trust the Department knew what they were doing.

But she looked over at his pensive face, his strong chin and soft hair and metal arm and remembered his smile, his laughter, his undeniable magnetism as he slowly came back to himself. She remembered the cold body they had sent her on this mission with at first - the walking corpse deemed nothing but the Winter Soldier. How could destroying a man and leaving his empty shell walking around be a good thing?

So she didn’t take it back. She repeated it again over and over in her head.  _ How cruel. _

James was suddenly on his feet and back inside their room. He reemerged just a moment later with a small radio and set it on the table between them. Natalia shook out her melancholy.

‘I fixed it while you were out,’ he said brightly. ‘A little music makes everything better.’

_ How cruel _ .

She smiled at him. He switched it on and fiddled with the dials until American pop music began playing loudly. Her smile impossibly widened. She did not know the artists or the albums but Natalia had always adored American music. It was her secret vice. She tapped her toes to the jumpy guitar rhythm that played.

‘They taught us to dance,’ she blurted out. ‘At the academy they taught us to dance ballet and I thought for the longest time I’d be a dancer. That’s what they told us our goal was when we were too young to understand the real one.’

‘So what you’re saying is you like dancing?’ he asked, leaning towards her with a cheek-filled smile.

‘I do,’ she confirmed

‘Then what are we waiting for?’

He was on his feet, a hand extended to her. Bemused, Natalia took his hand which was soft and warm unlike the other and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She opened her mouth to ask what her was doing when he pulled her around in a circle, catching her waist with his free hand. Natalia settled her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to lead. She recognised the steps from old Hollywood films.

‘Where did you learn to dance?’ she asked, thrilled.

‘No idea!’ She span under his arm. ‘I told you: I’ve forgotten everything else but the skills. At one point in my life this was a good skill to have!’

Natalia jumped and he lifted her by the waist. He span lightly on his feet, dropping her down to hers. She bounced on her toes, their hips moved in tandem.

‘You’re pretty good at this!’ she called over the music.

He snatched her back into his arms. ‘You’re not too bad yourself!’

Delighted she let out another giggle. His chest loomed over her - the bands of muscle once terrifying to her now radiated a welcome heat. The song slowed and quietened until a presenter began garbling over it.

_ ‘And that was “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” by The Rolling Stones, number one in the UK and US. Up next a hit from earlier this year - see if you can name it!’ _

And the deep, rich tones of a singer filled the room. Natalia leaned over, still clutching one of his hands, to turn up the volume. Trumpets and violins burst forth, pausing with the singer and striking up again. It was a slower tune, less hurried than the previous but still lively. They swayed back and forth to the chorus. The verses were slower and Natalia had no qualms with resting her head on his shoulder. He pulled her in closer with one hand behind her back.

It was then the words made themselves clearer to Natalia. She concentrated on the crooning voice with a small crease between her eyes.

_ ‘...girl, get out of my mind. My love for you is way out of line. Better run, girl! You’re much too young, girl! Young girl, get out of my…’ _

She screwed her eyes shut and firmly ignored it. If James noticed the lyrics he did not react. Instead her pushed her out and twirled her. Natalia buried the confused feelings in her heart for later examination.

They danced to the next four songs and called it quits. The sun had set now, casting them into pitch blackness. The clouds overhead obscured every star. Lights and music in such surroundings were too risky. With just a table lamp throwing out muted light across the floor, Natalia sat on the edge of the smaller bed and sipped her whisky. The taste had grown on her.

James pulled his shirt over his head and collapsed onto the double bed face first. She giggled.

‘I could sleep for a week,’ he said, voice muffled by the pillows.

‘Well I’m not setting an alarm,’ she said gleefully. 

He rolled onto his back with a sigh. His right hand reached out blindly, feeling for the lamp, and eventually flipped it off. The room plunged into blackness. Natalia drained her glass and gingerly set it on the floor at the foot of her bed. She heard the rustle of his trousers being shed. She did the same and crawled under the thin sheets.

‘Goodnight,’ she murmured.

‘Mm,’ he hummed sleepily. ‘Goodnight, Natasha.’

Her lips curved upwards at the softer version of her name on his lips.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I couldn't decide which direction to take this story in for a while. I think I got it now.  
> The song referenced in this chapter and the last is 'Young Girl' by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, 1968. Well worth a listen.

In the morning Natalia watched James sleep in the thin, grey light. His hands were tossed over his head, his chest rising and falling steadily. The sheets were tangled in his legs. He slept like a brick, his mouth slack. Soft snores fluttered upwards from him.

In this moment of relative privacy Natalia pulled up her emotions from yesterday. Instantly they flooded her: a kind of confused warmth. The kind that made her want to blush. It was tightly associated with the feeling of her cheek on his metal shoulder, and the way he looked at her when he smiled. The song from yesterday bloomed in her mind.

_Young girl, get out of my mind._

And there was the crux. Natalia was not a fool, despite her foolish emotions. She knew she had developed a childish crush on James, but did he feel the same towards her? He had not reacted to the song which indicated he did not, or perhaps he simply did not agree with its message. Maybe he did not want Natalia out of his mind. He seemed eager enough to work with her again, but that could be a professional desire or even a desperate one. James had spent many years working alone, it would not shock her to learn he was lonely.

But he called her Natasha, like a friend would. He danced with her closely, comforted her when she was scared, seemed genuinely saddened by the fact he would forget her. Natalia chewed on her lip as she thought. She was quite unable to put the pieces of this particular puzzle together.

Instead she rose and stretched and checked the perimeter. She wrestled with her emotions in the shower, convincing herself of how _bad_ it would be to act on them. Yes he was attractive and strangely charming but he was also _The Winter Soldier_. It was a no-go of the highest order. She had considered sleeping with him once out of pure boredom and lust. Now it was girlish nonsense she desired: a walk along the nearby beach, whisky and kisses in the sunshine, long nights of embraces.

No. Not possible.

When she stepped out the bathroom he was awake. He was making her bed, his own already assembled with military precision. She smiled at his odd behaviour, and ignored the way it wormed into her heart. She was a Black Widow, not some starry-eyed school girl.

‘Good morning,’ he said merrily. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘You mean despite the mosquitos?’ she quipped. ‘I’m eaten half to death.’

She held up her bitten arm and he laughed at her itchy red lumps. He held up his own right arm which was in a similar condition. Feeling annoyed by his laugh she reached out and poked one of his bites hard. He flinched away from her, and she laughed this time.

‘Rude,’ he scolded. ‘Just for that _you_ can go get breakfast.’

It was so easy to forget, Natalia mused as she collected their breakfast trays from reception, that she was a deadly killer. That not forty-eight hours ago she had set a whole camp alight. She had run away from their screams afraid not for them but for herself.

She let herself back into their room and wondered why it was she was permitted to live and not the innocent. Perhaps the innocent should be better trained.

James snatched the food from her, snapping her from thought. She scowled at him. They ate in companionable silence. He was dressed in loose, cool clothes again. His hair was piled atop his head, strands of it dangling down to brush his chin. He ate greedily as if he hadn’t in months. Once finished he supplemented the meal with bread and cheese Natalia had bought the day before.

‘Don’t they feed you?’ she asked bluntly.

He shrugged. ‘I spend most of my time working missions, not eating.’

She knew they kept him asleep between said missions. Between that induced slumber and the no doubt difficult nature of his work she doubted he had any time to eat at all. The beginnings of pity welled in her heart when he took a bite out of a peach. One of the peaches she had bought specifically for herself.

‘Hey! Those are mine!’ she yelped.

He looked at her, mouth full of fruit, as if she was the one who was crazy. Natalia leapt up and tried to grab the half-eaten fruit from him. He held it from her reach high in the air. She scowled at him as he chewed. It was easy, really, to grab his other shoulder and climb him like a tree. In a second she had wrapped her legs around his head and was wrestling with the metal hand that held the peach. His other hand gripped her back, his face buried in her stomach, and he gave a surprised grunt. Natalia held his wrist in two hands and squeezed - but the metal did not give like skin and the tendons did not force his hand open.

She let out a shriek as he dropped to his knees and deposited her on the floor. The peach was thrown away and forgotten about as they found themselves in a rather compromising position. Her legs were still wound around his neck. He knelt over her, balancing his upper body on his elbows. Natalia swallowed the body deep blush she felt at his look of undiluted hunger.

She loosened her legs, letting them flop down to the floor and rest, bent, on her feet. He did not move. There was something primal about their position and it made Natalia’s core heat with desire. She wanted nothing more than to smother him with her thighs in a completely different way now. He pushed up onto his hands and looked down at her, their faces more level now. She knew the look on his face, she had seen it a hundred times before and a hundred other men. He was psyching himself up to do something stupid.

‘I saw you kiss him,’ he said suddenly before she could work out what to say herself. ‘That soldier in the camp, before you killed him. I saw you.’ She said nothing. ‘Why?’ he implored.

Shock floated over her face. ‘To distract him, keep him quiet. It was tactical.’

He leaned down again, sliding off his hands and pinning her to the floor. His face floated just inches from hers. Natalia unwittingly widened her legs to accommodate his hips. She was too enraptured by the look in his eyes and his electrifying attention to do anything but stare at him.

‘I've never seen combat like it,’ he admitted in a whisper. 'It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.'

Her brain was stalled. It spluttered uselessly and the only phrase that managed to make contact with her lips was a breathless, ‘Don’t eat my peaches.’

Then he kissed her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains gratuitous sex bc I'm just that kind of person.

He tasted like heaven. He must have been smoking while she was out because his kisses made her mouth dry and breathless. Natalia relished the firm weight of his body atop her. She wrapped herself around him and he kissed her so passionately it felt like fire. She let out a groan into his mouth.

His lips softened on hers, turning their kisses wide and wet and totally filthy. Natalia tangled her fingers in his hair tightly in response. He lowered another inch atop her and she took his weight gladly. 

Doubt slammed into her mind like a freight train. She opened her mouth to protest but instead submitted to another kiss. His flesh hand grasped at her waist - wide and warm - a war began within her. Her life so far could be mapped in major events in which Natalia had chosen mind over matter without fail. It was her M.O., her mantra, her crutch. When in doubt falter to the mission guidelines, think of your goals, take the drive of your  _ mind over matter _ .

But this time matter had her pinned to the floor and was rapidly soaking her underwear. This time matter was kissing her neck and caressing her skin like she was the most goddamned beautiful thing on the planet. Natalia closed her eyes as if it would help. She swallowed. She tried desperately to  _ think _ .

‘Natasha?’

She looked down at him. James hovered above her breasts, one hand tugging on her bra strap a little, his eyes wide and honest. His lips and cheeks were flushed red, his hair messy thanks to her. He pulled on the strap.

‘May I?’

And he  _ asked _ for her permission to ruin everything she had ever worked for. He looked at her and he asked to break every rule of their existences. They were weapons, tools, in the form of human bodies and said bodies were not meant to be enjoyed. They were weapons...But the look in his eyes was not one of a weapon, the way he danced or talked or made her smile was not weaponizable. And how dearly she wanted to give in to the desire building in her.

So she did.

Natalia took matter over mind and pulled him back into a kiss. Because she was  _ not _ just a weapon and nor was he. They were the two most dangerous people alive and if that did not grant a degree of autonomy she did not know what would. An excited thrill leapt through her as she broke the mould they had shoved her in. Mind over matter was just another mode of service, another lock on her body, and she broke it gleefully.

The Black Widow chose not to serve, but be served. And she started with the Winter Soldier.

He reached behind her and made short work of the hooks of her bra. Natalia arched her back as he pulled off her shirt and bra in one smooth motion. Her breasts swung free and he clasped them desperately, bringing his mouth down to her nipple. She let out a moan of pleasure as he kissed and sucked her nipples raw. Not to be outdone Natalia pulled his shirt up and over his shoulders, but his arms did not move in time and the fabric smothered his face. He peeked over the top of it with one eye and she let out a giggle at the sight.

He laughed too and yanked the shirt over his head. The desperation between them lifted a little, but none of the passion. He held her down with one hand, softly but firmly, and used the other to undress her bottom half. She gasped as he buried his face between her thighs. Her fingers twisted into his hair again and she panted for breath. His mouth was unforgiving on her cunt, sloppy and satisfying in a way she could never have imagined. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, pushing into her thighs with his body. He kept one hand on her ass, and slid two fingers of the other inside her. She came quickly after that, flat on her back and gasping up into the air.

His head raised, a small and triumphant smile on his lips. Natalia smirked back. Not to be outdone she clamped her thighs around him once more and rolled him into his back. James complied willingly. He seemed to be in a kind of daze as she undressed the rest of him. He looked at her as if in bewildered shock. She kissed him passionately to wipe that stupid look off his face.

They moaned together as he slid inside her, hard and long and  _ hot _ . Gently, once she was sure he was sheathed in her to the hilt, Natalia began to rock back and forth atop him. He grabbed her hips and moved in tandem with her. She felt every inch of him on both the upwards and downwards strokes. She felt he was fucking the sense out of her, she’d be quite stupid once he finished. She surrendered her sense happily, digging her nails into his chest to ride him harder. 

It was clear by his face he was not going to last. That did not matter. It was glory enough to see such undiluted pleasure in his expression. His eyes shut, eyebrows raised, mouth open. He looked as close to God as either of them would ever get. 

With a massive grunt and a huge thrust he came inside her. Natalia rode the waves of his climax with him, slowing her rhythm as he recovered slightly. Once fully back to himself she paused and took a moment to breathe.

‘You owe me peach,’ she murmured.

He laughed, sat up and pulled her into a slow, sweet kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

That night they shared the bed. He had crawled into it after showering as he had the night before: heavily, and with great drama. Natalia watched James settle himself on his back, stretched out like a cat warming itself in the sun. She crossed the room and dove into the bed with him. He stiffened.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked softly, worriedly.

Heat passed over her face in the semi-darkness but Natalia refused to let it rule her. ‘I’m sleeping in this bed with you,’ she said simply.

He said nothing. She looked up at him, and he stared back at her with concern.

‘Okay,’ he finally agreed. ‘But I...I haven’t slept next to someone in a long time.’

She stretched herself out as he did. She gave a shrug. ‘If you kick me out the bed I’ll eviscerate you.’

He laughed and gave a more hearty ‘Okay. That goes for you too, Natasha.’

She lifted his metal arm and rolled under it, pressing her back to his chest. He curled around her, his knees pressed up under her own, his face found the crook of her neck. He kissed the soft skin there.

Natalia’s heart swelled almost painfully. This was not something she was meant to experience, not ever. It was forbidden fruit of the highest order. Anxiety gripped her, sweeping through her blood like poison.

‘No one can ever know, Yasha,’ she whispered in the dark.

‘I know,’ he murmured back. He hugged her tighter, pressing his nose just behind her ear. ‘After we get back, after they... _ wipe me _ , It’ll be up to you. You can’t let it slip.’

Natalia blinked back tears. ‘I know,’ she echoed hoarsely. 

And she thought of it despite herself. She thought of him looking at her without any recognition, without the memory of holding her in that very moment. She pushed herself closer to him as if to press the memories into his bones.

‘I wish I didn’t have to forget!’ 

His words came out on a strangled cry. She had been so wrapped up in her own fear she had forgotten his. He was shaking against her, rocking them slightly. Appalled, Natalia rolled over and took his face in her hands. His eyes were screwed shut, lips downturned and tense. He looked on the very edge of tears.

‘Yasha,’ she breathed. ‘Yasha…’

And he sobbed, brokenly. Natalia wrapped him in her arms. Her lost soldier sobbed into her chest, fingers clinging to her waist desperately. James did what the whole world expected him incapable of: he broke.

Natalia allowed herself to cry with him. Three days was all they had left, then nothingness. Once they saw him with bright eyes, heard his voice in the depths of animation, saw the way he looked at her...They’d end it and he would never remember her. He barely even remembered himself.

Unless…

‘Yasha!’ she gasped out. ‘Yasha, listen!’ She drew back to hold his cheeks again. ‘What if we fooled them? What if you pretend to have remembered nothing? Would they still wipe you?’

His expression relaxed into one of shock. He looked at her desperately through wet eyelashes.

‘Pretend?’ he repeated.

She nodded quickly. ‘Like you were when I first met you. You could pretend, right? Would it work?’

His eyes cast about as he thought. ‘I-I don’t know. They’ll recondition me, that’s for certain, but maybe if they think I don’t remember anything…’ He looked up at her again, a little steel in his blue eyes. ‘It could work.’

She smiled a little, hope lighting a raging fire within her. ‘You think?’

He smiled back and gave a watery laugh. ‘It’s worth a shot.’

She kissed him. His fingers relaxed on her waist. Natalia’s heart quailed at the thought of lying to her superiors, but if it meant saving James it had to be worth it. She could not quantify it but lying there with him felt more important than anything else. 

Natalia wrapped her fingers around the necklace he had given her. She held it tightly in her palm. Silently she promised that if she ever doubted the significance of saving James she would hold it and think of this moment. She would think of the warmth of his breath on her cheek, the strength of his body so gentle against her, the cruelty of his handlers in what they did to him. She knew it was not the right thing to do, but since when had the Black Widow done the right thing?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ridiculously short chapter, I know. It just felt right to end it there. I'm uploading the following few chapters immediately afterwards in compensation.

In the morning James fucked her gently. It was slow and certain and without any of the previous night’s desperation. Natalia came apart in his arms as he did in her. Together they lay, already sweating in the morning heat, and basked in their disobedience. Natalia kissed his face. He laughed heartily.

She rose and gathered their breakfasts and they ate together on the bed. 

‘Let’s go out somewhere,’ James said.

‘Where?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘There’s a beach nearby, isn’t there?’

‘We are under orders to remain indoors,’ she said cheekily.

He smiled. ‘I’ll get my coat.’

The beach was a little like the one they had visited earlier, except that it was busier and dirtier because of it. The cool air that blew off the water was no less refreshing, however. Natalia spread out a towel and they sat on the sand, as far away from the others as possible. 

It was mostly children and families on the sand. They ran back and forth, playing games neither of them knew the rules for. They spared not a glance at James and Natalia, side by side. She handed him one of her peaches. She had stuffed her pockets with them before leaving. 

‘What’s our extraction plan?’ he asked grimly.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘Most likely helicopter and then train, like before.’

He reached out and held her hand in his. His flesh was warm and gentle, it thawed her long since cold heart. Natalia turned and kissed his neck, just below his ear. James leaned into her touch.

‘We should have a code,’ she murmured to him softly.

He stiffened. ‘In case I forget?’

She sniffed back the tears that threatened and nodded. ‘Yes.’

After a moment he nodded too. ‘Okay. Any ideas?’

The ocean lapped the shore noisily as they both thought. Neither had any special words for each other, no moment they clung to they could articulate. Natalia had her pendant - he had nothing. Undoubtedly she would have to rid herself of it sooner rather than later. She considered playing it off as a spoil of war. 

Before either of them could voice an idea, the radio in Natalia’s pocket crackled. She answered in French.

‘ _ Oui? _ ’

‘Agent Romanoff, this is Tran Do. I have received a message from your superiors. They have managed to procure an aircraft for you and the Soldier. You have two hours to extraction.’

Natalia’s heart pounded in her throat.


	15. Chapter 15

‘I’m not going back.’ The words spilled out of his mouth as soon as Natalia put the radio down. ‘I won’t.’

‘Yasha,’ she sighed. ‘We have to go back.’

He shook his head. His jaw set with a click, his mouth turned downwards. ‘I won’t. I’m not going back.’

Panic fluttered in Natalia’s chest. She could see the determination in his expression, and she had to handle it. She held a hand out to him as she stood.

‘Let’s get back to the hotel. We can discuss it there.’

‘There’s nothing to discuss.’ He stood anyway. ‘I’m getting my things and I’m leaving.’

She swallowed her arguments all the way back to their hotel room. Once inside he set about packing his few things away again.

‘James,’ she said firmly, ‘stop and  _ think _ . This is madness.’

‘Is it?’ he spat. ‘Hurry up and pack your things, we don’t have long.’

She froze, her mouth popping open. He continued to hurry around her. He wrapped up the food carefully and packed that too. She jumped a little when he tossed her bag at her feet. He breezed by her into the bathroom.

When he emerged Natalia had managed to pull herself together a little. One look from her and he stopped dead.

‘I’m not going,’ she said.

His jaw tightened again. ‘Fine,’ he spat.

‘James-’

He stuffed his soap and toothbrush into a side pocket of his pack. ‘Will you give me up?’ he asked tensely.

‘You’re not leaving!’ she argued hotly. ‘It’s suicide! They’ll find you and they’ll kill you for insubordination.’

‘No they won’t,’ he hissed through his teeth. ‘I’m far too valuable an asset. They’ll wipe me and put me back in that fucking tube. I’m not going back.’

‘Yasha, you need a plan! You need...somewhere to go! Where are you going to go?!’

‘Like I’d tell you,’ he muttered.

‘Hey!’ Natalia grabbed his wrist and forced him to face her. ‘I’m trying to get you to listen to  _ reason. _ ’

‘You’re trying to get me back into slavery!’ he snapped.

‘No…’ She shook her head, a little of her fight leaving her. ‘No, I’m trying to keep you alive.’

‘I don’t need your help with that.’

‘Yes, you do! You’re being irrational!’

He laughed in her face. ‘You’re the one trying to convince me to go back to that hell hole! If I’m irrational you’re fucking crazy!’

‘You can’t outrun them!’ she yelled. ‘They have eyes and ears everywhere, it’s not possible. And maybe they will wipe you or maybe they’ll just kill you and I couldn’t live with myself if I let that happen.’

‘But you’re happy for me to brainwashed?’ he snarled at her, leaning down to look into her eyes intently.

Natalia stared bravely back. ‘I’m happy for you to be  _ alive. _ ’

‘This isn’t living,’ he said, his expression softening slightly. ‘You know that.’

‘No,’ she agreed. She looked at his lips briefly, forlornly, before returning to his blue eyes. ‘It’s a good way not to die though.’

He kissed her forcefully. Natalia poured her heart into his mouth. His large hands cradled her cheeks. After, he pulled her into a tight hug. They were both sticky with the heat.

‘I’m gonna miss you, kiddo,’ he said to her in English.

‘Yasha, please,’ she begged softly. ‘Don’t do this.’

He kissed her neck quickly before letting her go. Natalia struggled to conceal a sob. He slipped on his backpack and sunglasses and paused in the doorway. He gave her one last smile and left. 

Her hand shook ever so slightly as she assembled the sniper’s rifle she had kept carefully concealed from James throughout their trip. She thumbed a dart into the barrel. One should be enough, according to his handlers. She walked onto the balcony.

James being James she knew he would pause to see her one last time. She stood patiently until he came into view. True to form he paused and looked up at her. Natalia did not return his wave as her hands were full. He turned and headed towards the tree line.

‘I’m sorry, Yasha,’ she whispered to herself.

She pulled the trigger and The Winter Soldier fell to his knees and after a moment, into a deep, tranquillised sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

‘Mission report.’

Natalia answered in a dull monotone, detailing the success of their mission. Ivan Petrovitch listened attentively. Beside him, his secretary made extensive notes. Natalia resisted the urge to wring her hands nervously. It was the first time she had lied to her handler, for her omissions concerning her relationship with James  _ were _ lies. Willful deception took many forms.

‘And why did you tranquilise the Winter Soldier prior to extraction?’ Ivan asked when Natalia had finished speaking.

‘He became violent,’ this was a lie in its most conventional form. ‘The sound of the rotors triggered him in some way, he lashed out.’

Natalia raised the back of her hand to show him where she herself had cut into her own skin. It gave the story credibility, and she doubted James would be punished for it. He was, after all, an attack dog.

Ivan nodded and swallowed every bit of it. ‘Did the Soldier exhibit any other unsettling behaviour?’

Read:  _ disobedient. _ Natalia shook her head. ‘None.’

‘Very good. You may return to your room.’

She stayed put. Ivan looked at her with a hint of curiosity in his ordinarily cold eyes. She adopted a small, professional smile.

‘I have a request,’ she opened.

‘Yes?’ Ivan settled back in his chair coolly. He observed her with care.

‘The Soldier displayed many skills during this mission that I found myself lacking. His skill with a knife and his sharpshooting, for example. I wondered if I might be trained in such combat.’

‘You are a spy, not a soldier,’ Ivan pointed out.

‘And a spy should have many tricks up her sleeve,’ Natalia argued firmly.

Ivan grinned and it was much like a shark baring its teeth. ‘You are right, of course, little spider. But the Soldier was trained in Siberia and I am unwilling to banish you to that wasteland should we need your current skills in the near future.’

Natalia shrugged casually. ‘Then keep the Soldier here. Have him teach me.’

Ivan leaned towards her. ‘You would want to spend  _ more _ time with him?’

‘I would want to learn his skills,’ she corrected.

He leaned back again, pacified. ‘I would have to speak to his handlers. I believe they are anxious to get him back on ice.’

‘Perhaps we can make it worth their while,’ Natalia bargained very carefully. She could not show a vested interest in the outcome of this conversation. ‘I could teach him something in return maybe?’

Ivan smiled again. ‘You are clever, Natashenka. I will speak to them, perhaps they will agree to this bargain. You are dismissed.’

Natalia rose and allowed Ivan’s cloying hands to embrace her cheeks. As always he leaned across his desk and kissed her gently on the lips. It was not a kiss of passion, or congratulations, but one of ownership. She was used to it after so many years, but now it burned a part of her that longed for another set of lips. Her mind wandered once again to James. 

As she walked to her room Natalia wondered where he was and how much he hated her. She reasoned with the burning tears in her eyes that she had brought him back to Russia for his own good. He undoubtedly would be dead by now if left to his own devices. 

Once in her room she fished out the necklace he had given her from beneath her clothes. It sat in her palm warmly. Silently she apologised again to James. 

It was late. The trip back to the Red Room had taken three days by air and train. Natalia stripped out of her clothing. She placed the jewel innocuously on her small bedside table, and began to ready herself for bed. She tried her best not to think of James.

She was alone in the communal shower due to the lateness of the hour. She stood beneath the blessedly tepid water and looked at her sun-kissed skin. Her arms were awash with freckles, as was what little of her upper torso she could see from this angle. Her skin had darkened to a warm brown. Her fingers looked long and worldly. Her hair was lighter, bleached by the sun to an almost strawberry blonde. 

She wished it would wash off.

What had once been an oasis was now tainted by her actions. She had singlehandedly ruined the fragile relationship she and James had wrought, and thus brought herself to regret the entire mission. Part of her wished she had never met him because at least then things would be easier.

Perhaps like her tan her feelings for him would fade and pale to a nothingness. She could handle nothingness.


	17. Chapter 17

Two days passed and during that time Natalia had almost convinced herself she had put her treasonous fling in the past. She counted it as a heat and hormone induced lapse in concentration. She did her best to move on.

This was all working until she met him for her first lesson.

The words bubbled up to her tongue and almost burst from her mouth. _Oh God, what have they done to you?_

He stood before her as blank and empty as the day they had met. His eyes were glassy, almost unfocused. It seemed he had neglected bathing. She glanced at the two guards behind him, vigilantly holding their weapons to his back but talking casually to each other. No, they had not allowed him to bathe nor to change his clothes. She scowled.

‘Excuse me?’ she called shortly to the guards.

They turned to look at her, guns in hand, but said nothing. Natalia played at being disgusted.

‘Do you not clean him?’ she demanded. ‘I’m here to learn not to contract something.’

‘Does he have to be clean to teach?’ one argued back.

Natalia scowled at him again. Unwilling to push her luck she turned back to James. He looked at her now. Not one shred of recognition shone in his eyes. Dirt and sweat caked the hair that dangled before them. Her heart squeezed as if between a great vice. Desperately she tried to squash the desire to throw her arms around him and beg forgiveness.

‘What is my first lesson?’ she asked of him bluntly instead.

James said nothing. He lifted his right hand to offer her a deadly looking knife. As soon as her fingers grasped the handle he burst into motion. Natalia had to drop to the floor and roll to avoid the knife in his other hand. It seemed her lessons would have a very practical aspect.

His skills were so much more advanced than hers in this area that Natalia was forced to be defensive throughout the hour. She could do no more than block or avoid his attacks. Occasionally she could not even do that and her blood was spilled across the polished concrete.

‘Enough!’ one of his handlers called. 'Your weapon, Soldier.'

James retreated to their side and surrendered his knife. Natalia tended her shallow wounds, and tried her best not to cry. He did not spare her a sideways glance.

Once unarmed he was surrendered to her. She was to teach him Spanish, a language he had not yet been programmed in. Natalia did her best to swallow her nerves and horror and sat with her legs in a basket in the middle of the floor. He sat down before her heavily. His blank eyes seemed foreign to her now.

Natalia held up a finger. ‘ _Uno._ ’

He copied. ‘ _Uno._ ’

Another finger. ‘ _Dos.’_

_‘Dos.’_

_‘Tres…’_

At the end of the lesson, now fluent in the Spanish numbers up to one thousand, his handlers led him away. Natalia was not surprised by his strangely intense learning abilities - there was nothing else in his brain to get in the way. She stood, redressed the bleeding gash across her forearm, and retreated to her bedroom. The urge to run was almost overwhelming. Quietly she murmured reassurances to herself in her head. It was up to her to protect them now.

At the risk of alerting her handlers she could not even scream into her own pillow. Instead, she grabbed her towel and soap and decided to attempt to wash the shame away.

However, outside the communal bathroom door the same two guards from earlier stood. Natalia paused before them.

‘No access,’ one of them grunted.

‘Why?’ she challenged coolly. ‘Because the Winter Soldier is washing his cock? We lived in the jungle for three weeks. We washed out of the same bucket. There is nothing in there I have not seen before.’

They shared an uncertain glance. ‘Don’t get in his way,’ one of them warned as they stepped aside. ‘Provoke him and you’re on your own.’

Natalia breezed by them as haughtily as she could. Once the door shut behind her, she let her facade drop. Carefully, and noisily to warn him, she rounded the corner of the showers. He did not look up from where he stood beneath the water, unmoving.

‘James?’ she whispered.

His head turned slightly so he could observe her over his naked shoulder. Natalia gently placed her things on the ground. As she approached him, he turned to face her fully in all his glory. His body held no temptation for her at this moment. Now, she could only focus on his eyes because they were no longer dead.

‘James?’ she repeated.

He reached out and turned on the shower next to his own. Natalia understood and stepped closer to the noise provided. It drowned out her footsteps.

She stared up into his face, tears burning the corners of her eyes. James looked down at her, mouth set in a firm frown, eyes glazed. The spray of the water quickly dampened her clothes. Her hair stuck to her cheek wetly.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I had to.’

He closed his eyes briefly. ‘You didn’t,’ he murmured back.

‘I did,’ she pleaded. Her hands moved to cradle his face. ‘I did, Yasha. I couldn’t let you kill yourself.’

His flesh hand came up to cover one of hers. He smiled grimly. ‘I know. And you were right…’ He sighed deeply through his nose. Resignation painted itself over his features. ‘Freedom was never an option for me. They would have found me in a heartbeat.’ He leaned down to press his forehead to hers. Natalia did her best to stifle a sob of relief. ‘You _are_ an option, and I choose you.’

She pushed herself up onto her toes and kissed him forcefully. James kissed her in return, slipping his arms around her waist. Natalia wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him there. _This was her rebellion_ , she remembered. _This was her soldier, not theirs._

‘You stay with me, okay?’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Whatever happens.’ He nodded against her skin, lips open against her neck but saying nothing. She ran a hand through his wet, tangled hair. ‘However hard it gets,’ she promised, ‘staying together is more important than how we stay together.’

‘I’d do anything,’ he replied.

He kissed her shoulder, warmly and lovingly.


	18. Chapter 18

Natalia was woken in the night by screaming. At first she screwed her eyes shut against it - nightmares were a common occurrence in the Red Room. After thirty seconds or so the sound truly penetrated Natalia’s brain. It was deep, male screaming.

She flew to her door, but abruptly forced herself to pause. She could not be seen running to James’s defence. His screams died out for a moment before returning with full force. She swallowed the pain in her throat. With a carefully constructed expression of annoyance she opened her bedroom door. Unsurprisingly, she was not the only person peering out for the source of the noise.

‘Go back to bed!’ she snapped at the younger girls.

Like cockroaches fled from the light the girls retreated. Natalia pulled on a jumper over her pyjamas and went in search of James. Just before she left the safety of her room she slid a small switchblade into the waistband of her pyjamas. 

Her heart thumped madly in her chest as she walked, her fingers picked at a whole in her sleeve. She descended to the floor below. The sound drew her to what had been a ballet studio prior to her return from Vietnam. Since, it had housed the Winter Soldier’s holding cell. She had seen it: a great glass thing. Inside were enough restraints to hold down an elephant. He told her in one of their stolen moments that he slept in there at night, like an animal in a cage. 

James let out a particularly loud scream. Natalia crossed the room to where the door of the studio was ajar. Still feigning annoyance she threw the door wide.

‘Some of us are trying to sleep!’ she yelled to stop herself from shrieking in horror.

James was not in his cell, he was strapped to some sort of machine - plates secured over his head at the temples. He was pulling against his restraints. They had tethered him to a chair with leather straps. A lab assistant was trying to put a rubber disk into his mouth, but every time he got near James snapped at his fingers viciously. His eyes were entirely wild. Natalia stared, open-mouthed.

Ivan Petrovich approached her swiftly from the crowd of officers and handlers gathered on the other side of the room. She turned to glare at him.

‘I was sleep-’

He cut her off with a swift, harsh slap across the face. Cold fear trickled down Natalia’s spine. She could not even feel the pain of the strike. She glanced across to James who now struggled harder. He thrashed as much as he could. This time he actually got the tech’s fingers between his teeth. The man let out a cry and stumbled back.

‘You stupid girl!’ Ivan hissed. ‘Did you really think we would not find out?!’

He reached out and grabbed her bicep. Natalia’s brain buzzed uselessly - would it be better to come clean and defend herself, or to feign ignorance? Could she still get away with lying?

‘Son of a bitch!’ James yelled in English. ‘Don’t touch her! Don’t fucking touch her!’

Then there was no decision to make. Natalia tossed Ivan’s grip from her and backed towards James. The lab tech had retreated far from him now. Quickly it was her and James facing a room of armed personnel. She walked to his side, terror running through her veins.

‘Step away from him!’ Ivan ordered. ‘Come here!’

Natalia felt her fear boil down to hatred. A violent passion grew inside her. She withdrew the switch blade and cut through the loosened fibres that held a leather strap to the chair. James gave a grunt and pulled his metal arm free. From the corner of her eye Natalia saw the handlers raise their weapons. She ducked behind the machine that held James.

‘Don’t shoot!’ came the order. It was one of James’s most senior handlers, a General whose name she had not bothered to learn. 

James ripped the sensors from his temples and freed his other arm. Once standing he put himself between Natalia and the guns. She watched the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed heavily. Unable to resist, she straightened from her crouch and moved to stand close behind him. Gently she palmed the knife into his flesh hand - he was better with it then her. His metal hand reached back to touch her hip. Fear bleeding back into her mind, she pressed herself gently against the strong, study muscle of his back.

‘Natalia…’ Ivan warned.

She did not want to speak for fear of her voice breaking. Instead, she spat at his feet.

‘Longing.’

Natalia frowned at the non-sequitur. It was however said very clearly, and loudly. It was the voice of the General.

‘Rusted…Seventeen…’ 

James twitched. ‘Don’t,’ he hissed.

‘Daybreak…’

His hand slackened, grip loosening, and the knife dropped to the floor. Natalia watched in horror. He turned to face her, eyes full of regret.

‘Yasha?’ she asked.

‘Furnace…’ the General continued.

‘Stop!’ his voice turned to a plea. ‘Please!’

She reached up and took his face into her hands. ‘Yasha, what is it?’ she demanded.

‘Nine…’

He slipped down to one knee. The code, or whatever it was, seemed to be controlling him. Natalia sank to her knees a second after. Panic had now arrested her heart.

‘Stop it!’ she cried. ‘What are you doing to him?!’

The General stalked closer to them. ‘Benign…’

James let out a cry of anguish. Natalia cradled his head against her chest. She murmured desperately in his ear.

‘Stay with me. You promised you would stay with me, remember? It’s me, it’s Natasha. Stay here. Don’t listen, don’t-’

‘Homecoming!’ the General shouted over her.

He flinched in her arms. Natalia tightened her grip. ‘I have you, I have you. You’re going to be okay. Stay with me.’

‘One!’

James sobbed against her, his body turning limp. She was forced to take his weight. She shifted to brace herself beneath his torso, his head resting on her shoulder. Hot tears touched her neck. She hugged him ever tighter. Her head bowed to cover him.

‘Freight car!’

He stilled. Natalia kept her hold on him ever after he took back his own weight. She pressed her face into his neck as he pulled away from her.

‘Yasha?’ she asked softly. ‘Stay with me, it’s okay.’

‘Soldier?’ the General demanded.

James pulled her arms away from him roughly. It was then she drew back far enough to see his face. Her own breath choked her, bile rose to the back of her throat. 

With dead eyes and tone he replied, ‘Ready to comply.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has been trailing a little but I feel is coming to a natural end. There is however going to be sequel. Hope you enjoyed 'Death-Grounds'! Thank you all for your kind comments. I'll be updating very soon with the beginning of the sequel so keep an eye out. Next chapter is the final one.
> 
> Thanks,  
> snark.


	19. Chapter 19

‘What did you do?’ Natalia ask hoarsely. 

She was ignored, however. The General snapped his fingers.

‘Put her in the chair, Soldier.’

James grabbed Natalia’s shoulder and shoved her towards it. His face was utterly expressionless. He looked right through her. She stumbled away from him, but he grabbed her wrist painfully in his left hand. She cried out without effect.

‘James!’ she begged. ‘It’s me! James, stop!’

He ignored her. With bitingly painful grips he forced Natalia into the metal chair. His large knee came up to pin her down by her stomach. He pressed so hard into her flesh she struggled to breathe. Swiftly he began restraining her.

‘James, please,’ she croaked. She stared up into his face. He did not look down at her. ‘Please.’

She gasped in pain as the final strap slapped over her neck. Hardly did she have time to recover when James shoved the rubber disk between her teeth. Above her, the machine’s looming temple-plates hummed into life. Electric light poured over her face.

Natalia gave a strangled scream. 

‘Come, Soldier,’ the General ordered. James followed at his heel obediently. He did not spare her a second glance, and that was what hurt most to her. The real James in being ridiculously sentimental would have turned to see her one last time. ‘She’s all yours,’ The General said to Ivan.

Only Ivan and three armed guards remained now. Ivan descended on Natalia, his face full of fury.

‘You stupid girl!’ he repeated. ‘What were you thinking?’

Natalia turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut. Hot tears trickled across her face. Ivan’s fingers grabbed her chin and forced her back. 

‘You thought you could keep secrets from us?’ he asked mockingly. He laughed. ‘You should have been teaching your Soldier not to talk in his sleep!’

He moved away and flicked a switch behind her head. Slowly the plates descended towards Natalia’s face. Panic flooded her chest. She remembered how James had screamed just minutes before. 

The stinging plates touched her temples and the world dissolved into a haze of pain. Natalia thrashed and screamed but it did not ease. Her throat felt raw within a minute. Her teeth clamped down hard on the rubber disk. Eventually, the world descended into black. Her body remained a live-wire, too on edge to truly pass into unconsciousness. A sob tried to work its way up but was smothered by a shriek. Natalia's head filled with her moments with James - each one flashing by too quickly to be seen. It was like film reel fed too quickly through a projector. Desperately she tried to grasp at them. The memories, however, melted between the fingers of her mind.

‘There now, little spider,’ a voice spoke to her. ‘Love is for children.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Hope to see you in the sequel 'Memoranda' which will be posted soon.


End file.
